


Theodorian Walls

by beautyberry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Australia, F/M, Fluff, Healer Theodore Nott, Hermione sees her parents again, Love at Second Sight Fest, Theo did all the work, Theomione, memory recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29197596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautyberry/pseuds/beautyberry
Summary: When Hermione gets notice that her parents' memories can finally be retrieved, she has no idea Theodore Nott is the one who found the cure. But is he still the person he was in school?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23
Collections: Love at Second Sight





	Theodorian Walls

**Author's Note:**

> Again, thanks to QuinTalon for wrapping up this fest and, as always, thanks to anchoredto717 for beta-reading. 
> 
> This prompt was 'Australia'  
> You may ask why I entered two entries and why this one is so late. I ended up with two prompts because my phone is ancient and I'm crappy with technology, so I managed to spin the wheel twice and then accepted the challenge to write two stories. Funnily, this was the first one but I kind of had a breakdown over this. But here it is! Better late than never.  
> To quote 'The Great British Bake-off': "Started making it. Had a breakdown. Bon appetit!"

Hermione stood in front of the Smethwyck Hospital for Witches and Wizards in Melbourne, Australia. She couldn’t believe she was there. Folk, both wizarding and muggle, bustled around her as they minded their own business, not paying attention to the witch with her head thrown back in admiration and her heart beating in nervously.

  
  


The healers had finally found a way to bring her parents’ memories back. It had been five years since the end of the war and she had already given up the hope to ever see them again. Nothing she or the healers tried, worked. She knew that Wendell and Monica Wilkins received semi-annual to quarterly check-ups in Australia to make sure they were fine otherwise. A mind healer would meet them in an external bureau resembling a muggle psychologist and she would receive the reports. Until two years ago, she received a detailed report about anything they were doing in Australia and what they remembered from living in Britain - her memory charm had been strong, leaving her parents with a few blurs about their former life resulting in not making them question the whole psychologist story .  And shortly after that, she only received one-paragraph letters, saying her parents were fine and telling her between the lines to not ask any more questions, the signature illegible. Whenever she wrote an inquiry she wouldn't receive a response, only a new report a couple of months afterwards. It felt like they didn’t even want her to know any more and she started making her peace with not seeing them again when a brown barn-owl had delivered the life-altering letter, still signed with the same illegible signature. 

  
  


She took a deep breath and entered the hospital. The entrance hall was light and spacious, with decorative plants and a nice lounge. It was the complete opposite of the depressing hall of St. Mungo’s. A café was situated on the right-hand side with tasty-looking pastries and the aroma of good quality coffee wafting out. She decided she would treat herself and grab something on her way out. At the counter was a friendly Welcome Witch who warmly smiled at her. 

  
  


“Hermione Granger,” she introduced herself. “I have an appointment at 3 pm.” 

  
  


The witch checked her parchments. “Yes, I have your details here. Third floor, Spell Damage and Memory Issues. You will receive further information at the counter upstairs. The lift is over there.” She pointed to a pair of silver gates at the end of the hall. 

  
  


Hermione rode the lift to the third floor and took another deep breath before the doors opened and she stepped through. A very young-looking witch sat at the counter, smiling up at her. “You must be Hermione Granger.” She stood up and held out her hand. “Welcome to Smethwyck Hospital for Witches and Wizards.”

  
  


Hermione shook her hand. The witch wasn’t wearing a name tag. “Thank you, Miss—?”

  
  


“Right, sorry! Thompson. Chloé Thompson.” She ran her fingers through her blond hair. “Please follow me,” she said as she stepped out from the cubicle. 

  
  


Hermione walked behind her, admiring the bright and open design of the floor. "Who's currently assigned to my parents' case? I couldn't read the signature on the reports," she stated in hope to gather some information. 

  
  


Chloé looked uncomfortable and strode forward through the well-lit hallway, talking over her shoulder. "The last two years, a healer from England did the main research. He often went overseas to gather more information. You might know him. He’s about the same age as you.” She turned around the corner and stopped in front of a small conference room with six chairs placed around an oval table. “Here we are, he will be with you shortly. Excuse me while I get coffee.” She turned on her heel and scurried out.

  
  


“Wait!” Hermione shouted after her. “You didn’t tell me his name!” But the witch was already around the corner. Hermione groaned irritatedly and sat down on the window side of the table, admiring the view outside. Why did she feel like everyone she asked about the head healer was beating around the bush? 

  
  


She kneaded her fingers and watched two crows fighting over a piece of bread on the pavement when she heard two male voices coming her way. Two men stopped in front of the doorway, their backs turned to her. They both wore purple healer robes and held their heads close in a private conversation. One had a mop of dark brown hair, the other one only a few grey hairs left on his head. After something the younger one had whispered, the one with grey hair turned around to her and gave her a curt nod. He probably wasn’t the one Chloé was talking about, leaving the brown-haired one. He seemed athletically built and taller than average, from what she could tell. So far, she didn’t recall anyone from Hogwarts. Maybe he had been a year under or over her? They bid their goodbyes and the older one left with a clipboard and a scribbling quill floating behind him. 

  
  


The other one turned around and caught her gaze, shooting her a weak smile. Now that she saw his face, she recognized him. She remembered him with shorter hair and certainly paler skin. He had always been unobtrusive in class, so he easily blended next to other Slytherins like Malfoy or Pansy.

  
  


“Nott? Theodore Nott?” She asked disbelievingly. The boy who'd laughed at least once when Malfoy made fun of her at school now was here to help her with her parents? In what kind of parallel universe had the portkey sent her? Was this some kind of bad joke?

“The very same. Uhmm, hello, uh Miss Granger.” He held out his hand and she shook it while gazing into his blue-grey eyes. His handshake was firm, the skin surprisingly soft. She wasn't sure what to make of him but he seemed sincere so she decided to give him a chance; he’d never been as bad as Malfoy, after all. 

  
  


“Please call me Hermione,” she offered. She found it weird to be addressed formally by someone she went to school with, even if they’d never interacted. 

  
  


“Hermione,” he said her name like he tested how it felt on his tongue, “then you have to call me Theo.”

  
  


“Okay, Theo,” she repeated his action. 

  
  


They smiled at each other a little sheepishly when the assistant witch came back with two mugs of coffee and a stack of parchments floating behind her. “Here’s your coffee, healer Nott! Two sugars and a splash of milk, like always.” She turned to Hermione. “I had no idea how you drink yours so I prepared it just the same.” 

  
  


“Thanks,” Hermione smiled. She took the mug and placed it in front of her. Luckily, it was also the way she preferred it. 

  
  


The blonde witch stood silently in front of them, waiting for orders. Hermione couldn’t figure her out. She kind of looked at Theo dreamily while he took the seat across from Hermione. 

  
  


“Thanks, Chloé. You can go now,” Theo dismissed her.

  
  


“Oh yes, alright. See you, Sir. I mean—I—I’ll just go.” Her cheeks went scarlet and she dashed out the door. 

  
  


Hermione couldn’t help herself, she had to ask. “Are you—? I mean, is she—?” 

  
  


Theo looked at her from across the table with an amused smile on his lips. 

  
  


“—You know, kind of into you?” 

  
  


His eyes opened widely. “Merlin! No! She’s not interested in wizards.” He winked at her. “It’s probably you who made her nervous. I told her a lot about you and your role in the war in Britain.”

  
  


“Oh.” She felt a blush creep up her cheeks. After all the years she still wasn’t comfortable with being famous. 

  
  


“I can introduce you if you want.” He must have mistaken her blush for interest on her behalf. 

  
  


“Thank you for the offer, but no.” She was sure her cheeks were now a crimson colour.

  
  


Theo seemed to sense her unease, but instead of going full Slytherin, as she would have expected, and watching her squirm, he changed the topic. “About your parents—” He rummaged through the parchments Chloé had given him. 

  
  


“Theo,” she interrupted him, “why didn’t I receive more detailed reports in the last two years? It was like everyone tried to keep me out of this case on purpose,” she pried, assuming he would dodge the question by telling her it was because of some made-up guidelines. 

  
  


Theo went stiff, his eyes darting to the parchments in front of him. “Because I requested it.” He folded his hands on the tabletop, seeming to brace himself for her inevitable outburst at his confession. 

  
  


"You—You what?" She managed to force out her throat. 

  
  


"Hermione, it's not what you think," he explained calmly. "I requested it because I was afraid you would have me removed from the case because of our past." Two years ago, he would have been completely right, she would at least have wanted an explanation for it; but if the letter she had received two weeks ago could be trusted, he was the one who found a cure, something the other healers hadn’t. Theo went on, not noticing her rumination. “And speaking about our past, I owe you an apology for what happened during the war and before. I was raised to be a spoiled, pureblood, superior brat. Maybe not as much as Draco or Pansy, but I'm still a Death Eater's son. It wasn't until seventh year that I started to question my beliefs and I'm sorry that it took so long."

  
  


She could work with this reformed Theo. "Apology accepted." She gave him an encouraging smile. 

  
  


“Thank you.“ He visibly relaxed his shoulders. "After working through the former reports with no success in sight, I decided to make a different attempt with your parents. Instead of speaking to them only two to four times per year, I attempted to be involved in their personal lives. I moved to the same neighbourhood and became a volunteer in the community centre your mum's helping at. This way, I could better track what they were doing and how they coped with the partial memory loss they think they have. In the last year, I often had tea with your mum and dad." He shot her an apologetic smile. 

  
  


It felt odd to have a wizard who detested muggles until a couple of years ago interact with her parents. Then, she imagined Theo working at the community centre, with the ladies teaching him knitting or baking and started giggling. 

  
  


He gave her a tentative smile. "You're not mad?" 

  
  


"No." She held her stomach in laughter. "I'm imagining how you knit and bake with the ladies the same age as my mum."

  
  


"Oh, they totally love me." He wriggled his eyebrows and smirked. "A few even introduced me to their daughters." 

  
  


"So you're madly in love with an Australian beauty?" Merlin, was she trying to flirt with the wizard whose actions she questioned minutes ago?

  
  


"No," He scratched his neck. “I’m single.” She bit her lip to prevent herself from smiling too wide. She liked the fact that this handsome, fit wizard was single. Not that she was interested in him. She was here for her parents, first of all. “Unlike you,” he added after a moment.

  
  


"Ron and I broke up two years ago,” she clarified. “We decided that we're better off as friends. He's with Lavender now, if you remember her?"

  
  


He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment and then started rummaging through his parchments again, eager to change the topic. "So, your parents!" 

  
  


“Yes,” she brushed a stray curl behind her ear, as happy as him to talk about something else. “What did you find out?” She scooted to the edge of the chair to have a better view at the documents. 

  
  


He chuckled. “Still the curious witch from school, I see.” 

  
  


“Of course I’m interested in what you found out. Especially with your new attempts.”

  
  


“I’ve been researching the memory loss topic for the last six years and only recently became aware of an old scroll from the Persian Empire. It was buried deep in the archives of the Wizarding Univ—”

  
  


“Wait.” She interrupted him. “Six years? That’s impossible. You were still at Hogwarts and I was on the run. Unless—” She swallowed hard. She felt hot and cold, her heart suddenly beating faster at the conclusion she had drawn. “—Unless you knew?” The question came out strangled. Did she even want to know? 

  
  


Theo looked composed and now resembled the Slytherin she had expected moments earlier. “Hermione, please.” His voice was soft and he found her eyes again. “I  _ will _ tell you, but at a later time. Let me get through this first. For your parents.” He tapped his fingertips on the parchment between them and slid the upper sheet with cuneiform script, the Persian equivalent of runes, over to her. “This is a copy of the scroll and I’m sure it is the solution we’ve been searching for for so long. The main problem is that your parents are muggle and you cast both a memory charm removing old memories and another for planting new ones in your parents’ brains. Therefore, we need to combine muggle methods with wizarding ones.”

She already knew that; they’d told her so four years ago. 

  
  


“So I looked into muggle healing methods over amnesia and memory loss and tried to come up with a solution. Basically, we need a way to link the new neurons back to the memories you blocked with your spell. They are still there but inaccessible for your parents. Though your mother recently showed signs of recognition. She told me she dreamt that she was in a hall with Goblins and there was a little girl with her - Gringott’s, I presume?” 

  
  


She remembered their visit in second year and nodded. 

  
  


“It seems that the memories can be linked easier when they are asleep. We need a way to access their dreams and establish a connection with dendrites. This is where this script becomes important. It was discovered only two months ago in Iran and I went to Persepolis immediately to consult the archeological wizarding team there. It took a month to translate it, but here it is. The Persians used this ritual on muggles to restore their memories after Alexander the Great had left. They had changed them to protect the magical folk when he conquered Persepolis. It involves cuneiform script and gemstones, as you can see here.” He slid over another sheet of parchment, this time with four different stones and the according characters for them. 

  
  


“Each of us needs to have the cuneiform script drawn on the palm and hold the matching stone in the hand,” Theo went on. “I will slip your parents a sleeping draught. This way we can be sure they are in the right sleeping phase. The gemstones each resemble character traits that balance each other out in the ritual. Based on what I know about your parents and you, I’d suggest your mother takes the Golden Quartz for connection and healing, your father the Sodalite for wisdom and logical decisions, you’ll take the Rose Quartz which resembles unconditional love and reconciliation and I’ll take the Smoky Quartz which draws away negative energies as it’s the most draining one.” He slid over another sheet, this time with a wand movement and words on it. “Then I will cast the actual spell which breaks through the barriers and forces the dendrites to regrow. Given your mother’s last reactions, it might be easier to perform on her than your father.” He finished and looked expectantly at her like she would barrage him with questions now. 

  
  


She had to process everything he'd said for a moment. “Will they remember the time in Australia?”

  
  


“Yes, as we instigate the neurons to connect to each other, all remaining memories will be accessible.” 

  
  


She was overwhelmed by everything he had found out and the level of research he had put into it. “Theo, that’s incredible!” 

  
  


He waved her off. “Oh, I only—”

  
  


“No, really!” She wanted to hug him so tight even though she didn’t know him at all. “When 

can we get started?” 

  
  


“Tomorrow, if you want. I can finish my shift early.”

  
  


“Yes!” She almost shouted at him in her eagerness.

  
  


“Great! Is 4 pm okay? At the park opposite your parents’ house?”

  
  


“Yes. Alright.” She stood up and collected her purse, already excited to meet him again tomorrow. He gave her a crooked smile and waved when she exited the room.

  
  
  


☆☆☆☆☆

  
  


The next day, she apparated to the park opposite her parents' house. They lived in an upscale neighbourhood within only a few minutes to one of the beaches. She was one hour early and had decided it would be best to have a walk in the park to calm herself. She had begun to panic about what to wear and tried to persuade herself it was because she would finally reconcile with her parents, not to make an impression on the wizard helping her. After making one round through the park she spent the second half-hour sitting on a bench, desperately trying to steady her nerves and watching other people, wondering if their life was as upside down as hers. She came to the conclusion that it probably wasn’t and was happy when she spied Theo casually walking up to her. He wore muggle attire and without the robes covering his upper body, she had to admit he really was fit. 

  
  


“Hey,” he greeted her, shyly shaking two coffee cups in his hands.

  
  


She waved back and waited for him to walk up to her. “Hey, thanks,” she said as she took one of the cups from his hands and he sat down next to her. 

  
  


“Two sugars and one milk.” He’d remembered? Then again, it was the same way he preferred it. So was there anything to remember at all? He gave her a quick once-over. “How do you feel?” 

  
  


“Nervous,” she admitted. 

  
  


He took a sip of his coffee and laid the gemstones out between them. “When was the last time you saw them?”

  
  


“Last year. I sat at this exact same spot and watched them having a walk and talking to another couple. They looked so happy. I went down to the beach thereafter and watched the sunset, making my peace with never again being recognized by them.” She took the Rose Quartz in her hand, turning it in her hand to get a feel for it and trying to take her mind off of that day. Biting her lip, she looked over to Theo who fiddled with the grey Quartz. “What if this doesn’t work?”

  
  


“Then I will continue to search for a treatment.”

  
  


She let out a breathy laugh, the devotion of the wizard next to her was incredible. “Theo, I’ve made my peace with this. If this doesn’t work, it’s fine.” She could see something in his eyes, something she couldn’t quite place but what gave her a feeling she didn’t know the whole story of him. "What about the thing you wanted to tell me?" She fiddled with the paper banderole of her cup.

  
  


Theo turned to her, his eyebrows drawn together in question. 

  
  


"Why you started researching six years ago." 

  
  


"I'll tell you when we're done with the ritual," he said softly, taking the last sip of his coffee. "Speaking of which, we should get started." He pocketed the stones that laid between them. 

  
  


She also finished her coffee and they stood up, walking over to her parents’ front steps. She mentally encouraged herself that she could do this. Theo rang the bell and she could hear footsteps approaching inside. 

  
  


The door swung open and her mother stood there, giving the two of them a puzzled look. 

  
  


For the first time in six years, Hermione saw her mother up close. She had grown older, a few wrinkles under her eyes and sparse grey hairs showing through the dark brown strands. Otherwise, she looked the same. 

  
  


"Theodore?" Her mother asked astonishedly.

  
  


“Yes, hello Mrs Wilkins.”

  
  


“You know you should call me Monica!” Her mother declared in a tone Hermione knew only too well. 

  
  


“Monica,” Theo looked at Hermione as if to apologize that it was him who was on a first-name basis with her mum and not her. “Sorry to disturb you. This is my new neighbour, Hermione Granger. She recently moved here from Britain.” Theo waved his hand in her direction when he introduced her.

  
  


Her mother drew her eyebrows together in confusion when Theo said her name. “Oh, lovely! Do you want to come in?” She stepped to the side and let them in. 

  
  


The house smelled like her parents. The same scent as the one they had in London, with her mother's perfume and her father's aftershave lingering, only this time she was not a part of the family and nothing in the house gave way that this couple had a daughter. 

  
  


Her mother led them to the living room. “Please sit down. Do you want anything? Tea?” 

  
  


Hermione only managed to nod. Ever since the door had opened, she had a lump in her throat. 

  
  


“Yes, please, Mrs Wil—Monica,” Theo corrected himself when he saw her mother’s expression. 

  
  


“Great! I’ll go and put the kettle on and get Wendell from outside. He’s tending the tomatoes again,” her mother explained and Hermione felt a little pang in her chest at the obvious closeness Theo had with her parents. She gripped her knees tightly to calm herself down while her mother hurried through the patio door and shouted for her husband to come inside because they had visitors. 

  
  


“Breathe, Hermione,” Theo tried to soothe her. “It will be fine.”

  
  


“He always did that at home, gardening,” she almost choked at the words. She could see her father putting down his tools and both of them coming back in. Her heart beat like hell. 

  
  


“Hello, Theodore!” Her father greeted him euphorically. “Is this your girlfriend?” 

  
  


“Wendell!” her mother reprimanded him. “You can’t ask—”

  
  


Theo laughed. “It’s fine. No, she’s my new neighbour. Hermione Granger. But you can both call her Hermione.”

  
  


Her father raised his eyebrows at the mention of her name, looking nearly as puzzled as her mother had. “Hello, Hermione. Please call us Monica and Wendell.” He held out his hand. “May I ask how you got your name?” 

  
  


She suddenly felt like a deer in headlights, unable to move or even say something. Theo looked at her and mouthed ‘ _ it’s okay _ ’ and ‘ _ breathe _ ’. 

  
  


“Hello, Wendell. My parents loved Shakespeare’s  _ The Winter’s Tale _ .” 

  
  


“What a coincidence, Monica and I adore it, too.” 

  
  


She choked silently and hoped nobody noticed it. "Indeed, what a coincidence."

  
  


"Oh, I forgot the tea!" Her mother gasped and Theo shot up from the sofa, his knees brushing Hermiones, sending a jolt through her body at the touch. 

  
  


"You two sit down, I'll go and get it! That's the least I can do." He made a mock-bow making her mother chuckle and left. It was lovely to see how Theo made her parents laugh and that they liked him.

  
  


Her parents sat down on the opposite sofa, her father draping his arm around her mother's shoulder. 

  
  


"What made you move to Australia, Hermione?" Her mother inquired. 

  
  


"Oh, uhm," she hadn't been ready for any private questions her way, assuming Theo would do the talking. She thought it best to stick as close to the truth as possible. "Second chances." 

  
  


Theo stepped through the doorway, carrying a tray with four mugs that moment and she glanced at him, only then realizing the double entendre. She watched him putting down the tray on the table carefully and handing out the mugs to her parents, wondering how often he had done things the muggle way around them.

  
  


He plopped down next to her again, and Hermione picked some imaginary lint off her shirt to keep herself occupied. 

  
  


"What brings you two here?" Her father asked over the rim of his mug. 

  
  


Hermione stiffened and tried to keep herself from looking at Theo in panic when said one saved her from answering.

  
  


“Hermione wanted to volunteer at the community centre and I thought it would be great to introduce her to my favourite co-volunteers beforehand.”

  
  


“Oh, you’re making us blush, Theodore!” Her mother grinned from ear to ear and sipped from her tea. 

  
  


“That’s great,” her father added, also taking a sip. “We’re always looking for helping hands.” He struggled to keep his eyes open whereas his wife had them already closed. “What—do—you—” The question became superfluous as her father had lost the fight against sleep. Both of them sank back on the sofa, their heads lolling to the side. They lay side by side, breathing regularly and Hermione immediately felt sorry for doing this to them. 

  
  


Theo pulled out an inkpot, a small quill and the remaining gemstones out of his trouser pockets and drew the characters on her parents’ palms, then put the gemstones in them and closed them in a fist. “Now it’s your turn.” 

  
  


She held open her left palm and let Theo paint the cuneiform character into it. He held her hand steady with his other hand and carefully ran the quill over her skin. It tickled a little and she looked at his features instead. He looked a bit tense, with his jaw pressed shut in concentration, she guessed to be sure to not make any mistakes. 

  
  


“There you go,” he released her hand and she instantly missed his soothing touch. He dipped the quill into the pot one last time and drew the last character on his own palm. He took a deep breath and looked at her. “That’s it. Are you ready?” 

  
  


She nodded in a barely-there movement. 

  
  


Theo fixed his gaze on a point somewhere behind her parents and closed his eyes for a short moment. When he opened them again, he softly spoke the incantation and drew his wand in a zigzag movement. Hermione held her breath to not interrupt his concentration. She watched as soft pink light started to glow from the tip of his wand and spread over the whole room, bathing it in a pink blush. She could feel the energy from the stone and the drawing flowing through her. It was a tickling feeling resembling the first time she had held a wand at Ollivander’s. 

  
  


Her parents stayed peacefully asleep the whole time, her mother wearing a soft smile as if she was dreaming. She heard Theo groaning to her right and saw that his Quartz was now almost black. He tried to keep his eyes open and hold his wand steady, resembling Harry when he fought Voldemort at the Final Battle. She wanted to help him but was afraid she would break the ritual if she moved. Then, slowly, the glow fainted and left the room shimmering in a darker shade of pink. Theo dropped his wand in exhaustion, which rolled under the coffee table. The wizard himself tumbled a little but kept himself upright.

  
  


Hermione dashed to his side, a concern in her chest she hadn’t felt since she’d been with Ron. She cautiously lowered him onto the sofa and took Theo’s ice-cold wand hand between hers. They looked at each other in silence for a few moments. 

  
  


“Her—Hermione?” she could hear her dad’s faint voice from the sofa.

  
  


She dropped Theo’s hand and turned around to find both her parents awake. “Mum? Dad?” she asked carefully, hoping the ritual had been successful. 

  
  


“What are you doing here? What happened? Why does my head hurt so much?” Her father gripped his head tightly, his eyes squeezed shut.

  
  


She forgot about Theo for a moment and tentatively walked to the other side. “What are your names?”

  
  


Her mother was the first to answer. “Helen and Richard Granger." 

  
  


“So you—you remember me?” She felt her lip trembling as she brought out the question. 

  
  


Her father nodded, a tear slipping down his face. 

  
  


She lunged into her parents’ arms, feeling hot tears streaming down her face. “I am so sorry. I missed you so much,” she managed to stutter between sobs. She pulled back and saw her mother had tears in her eyes as well, whereas her father seemed petrified. 

  
  


“Yes, sweetheart. We remember you.” Her mother squeezed her hand as if to make sure she was really there. 

  
  


“Thank Salazar!” Theo moaned from the other sofa, watching the three of them intently. Gazing at each other, they shared a moment where they both smiled softly, silently processing what had just happened. He turned to her parents. "What is the last thing you remember?" 

  
  


"We were having tea with Hermione and you, but you called us a different name—to admit I'm a little confused." 

  
  


“Oh, I’ll leave that to Hermione. I think it’s better if I just leave.” He moved to get up from the sofa.

  
  


“No,” Hermione heard herself say, “stay.” He drew his eyebrows together in question. ‘ _ Please’ _ she mouthed. She couldn’t place it, but she felt more comfortable when he was there. He shrugged but flopped down on the sofa again.

  
  


“Hermione, would you please tell us what happened?” her father asked, this time with a sharper voice. 

  
  


She sat down in the armchair between the two sofas and told her parents what she had done six years ago. How the war happened and how she had tried and failed to bring them back to Britain. How Theo had found out a few months ago. Her parents listened and after a silence that felt like hours but was not even a minute, her father said, “I’m sorry but I need time to process this. My own daughter decided it would be best to delete us from her life to keep us safe?” He got up from the sofa and left the living room. 

  
  


“Dad—Wait!” She looked at her mother for help. She always knew what to say to calm her husband down. 

  
  


“I’m sorry sweetheart, but that was a bit overwhelming for both of us. Give him some time.” 

  
  


"Excuse me, I think it's better if I leave. Call me when you're ready?" She wrote down her mobile number on a scrap of paper she found on the coffee table and left. 

  
  


☆☆☆☆☆

  
  


Hermione sat down on the steps of one of the colourful beach houses. She felt entirely out of place here, the sparkling colours and the romantic sunset in stark contrast to her own feelings. She had left her parents house shortly after the conversation and had wandered aimlessly until her feet had brought her to the beach. She placed her head in her hands and watched the seagulls and happy couples, asking herself if her dad would ever come around. 

  
  


She felt how someone sat down next to her and was about to snap at the person invading her personal space when she saw it was Theo. He just silently sat next to her, giving her the option to talk or not. After a few minutes, he spoke softly. “I explained to them that you did the right thing and that they wouldn’t be here if not for you. He will come around.”

  
  


She put her arms around her knees and started sobbing. "I cannot believe I finally have them back and he hates me!" 

  
  


Theo rubbed soothing circles on her back. "Just give them a little time. How would you feel if someone decided to mess with your memories, no matter the circumstances?"

  
  


She waited for a moment, watching the calm waves on the horizon. "Do you always have the right answer, Theo?"

  
  


"I guess growing up with Slytherins and being a healer did that."

  
  


She wiped away the tears from her cheeks and looked at him. "Why did you do all that? For me?"

  
  


"I—About what we talked about yesterday, about me researching for six years—" he looked at his feet and curled his toes into the sand. "Voldemort found out what you did. Yaxley was sent there a month after you started the horcrux hunt . He talked to the neighbours and found out they had immigrated to Australia. You did the right thing.” He focused on the horizon. “My father knew I was interested in memory charms since Lockhart was exposed and threw in my name to research it. He hoped I would want to become a Death Eater like Draco did, something I never wanted. I built up a wall around me and kept everyone out, even Draco. I went to the library and half-heartedly searched the restricted section for information to maintain my cover. When I was home for the Easter holidays—” he flinched and tightly grabbed the wooden planks underneath him, his knuckles going white “—he tortured me in front of my own father for not making any progress. My father the coward just stood there and watched.”

  
  


She put her hands over his in lack of words. They were as cold as hers. “Theo, that’s—”

  
  


He shook his head, indicating she should let him talk. “From that day, I swore to myself they could all go to hell and I would keep out of their supremacist views. I kept up the pureblood attitude at Hogwarts, but that moment when you and the others of the Order entered the Great Hall on the day of the battle—that look of determination in your face. That you were ready to fight and even die for your beliefs and justice—” He let out a strained laugh.

  
  


She gripped his hands tighter and he interlaced their fingers. It felt like something they both needed that moment. 

  
  


"Seriously, that was the most bad-ass moment I have ever witnessed. My walls crumbled down. That moment, I realized I would do anything in my power to help you. When Draco and I were cleared of all charges, I started researching again. After being unsuccessful in Britain, I asked to be transferred to Australia to work directly with your parents. I visited every international Memory Damage Congress there was and was contacted by the Wizarding University of the Middle East about their find in the old archives of Persepolis. So I immediately went there and we worked it out."

  
  


"Theo—I—I don't know what to say. How can I thank you?"

  
  


His gaze flickered to her for a second, only to drop it again. He shook his head. “Don’t.” 

  
  


She was about to object when her mobile rang. It was her mothers’ name on the display. Theo squeezed her hand in reassurance and she flipped open her phone.

  
  


“Hi, Mum.”

  
  
  


☆☆☆☆☆

  
  
  


She sat down opposite her mum at the kitchen table. She had spent the last few days with her parents, not hearing anything from Theo. She missed talking to him, or even just sitting next to him, silently sipping tea or coffee with two sugars and one milk. She missed his smile and the way his hand felt in hers.

  
  


When her mother had called that evening when they sat together at the beach, she had asked her to come by for tea the next day, they wanted to talk to her alone. When she had hung up, Theo and she had sat together with their hands intertwined for some more time, keeping each other company and sharing warmth. Over the following days, her father had been a little distant but was at least capable of being in the same room as her. Right now, he was in the garden again, tending the tomatoes. 

  
  


“He feels like you deprived him of the right to protect you,” her mother reported while watching her husband outside the kitchen window. “You’re his daughter; of course he would have died for you.”

  
  


Hermione felt herself tearing up again, something she’d done a lot over the last days. A tear slipped past her cheek. “I was tired of people dying around me, Mum. I especially didn’t want that for my own parents.”

  
  


Her mother gulped. “So tell me about Theo,” she changed the topic. 

  
  


“What should I tell you about him? It seems you know him better than I do, after all.” 

  
  


“He is such a nice gentleman, everyone at the centre likes him.” She raised an eyebrow. “I once told him if I had a daughter, I would introduce her to him.” She chuckled and took a sip of her tea. “Do you fancy him?”

  
  


“Mum!” She already felt that blush creeping up her cheeks again. Damn her pale skin and the British winter without sunlight.

  
  


Her mother looked at her the way only a mother would: the mix of reading you like a book while not judging you and giving you a knowing smile. “After six years and missing your first boyfriend and heartbreak, this is the least you can do, sweetheart.”

  
  


Was her mother really emotionally blackmailing her? She sure would have made an excellent Slytherin. “I—Yes, I do. How could I not after everything he’s done for me?” She felt the tears rising hot in her eyes and she blinked frantically to prevent them from flowing. “God, I even panicked about what to wear that day we came to talk to you.” She stifled a laugh. 

  
  


“You know, he always talked about a girl we thought he adored. He always had that dreamy look on his face when he spoke about her. That’s why your dad asked when he first saw you accompanying him. You kind of matched the description. Said he never met a brighter person and that he was so stupid for making fun of her in school. You don’t know her by chance?” She winked at Hermione. “She seemed lovely. I wonder if he ever told her.”

  
  


Could her mother be any more obvious? Hermione gulped, she had to go and see Theo right now. “Mum, I’m sorry but I have to go.” 

  
  


“But of course, darling.” Her mother gave her a knowing smile over her mug. 

  
  


“Can—Can I go dressed like this?” Hermione looked down at herself in her striped sundress. Not exactly the best one she had, but certainly not the worst.

  
  


“He’ll like you no matter what you’re wearing! Now out with you!” Her mother chuckled and shooed her away. 

  
  


Hermione apparated directly to the hospital in the hope to find Theo there. She ran past the Welcome Witch and took the elevator to the third floor, quickly scanning the hallway and the open rooms for him. She found him when she literally ran into him when she turned around the corner to the meeting room. He kept her steady when she was about to trip and rubbed her shoulders. His hair was rumpled in a way that made her want to bury her fingers in it and had his eyes always been the colour of the sea at storm rather than only blue-grey? 

  
  


“Um, hi,” she gave him a weak smile and waved her fingers shyly. Why was she this awkward?

  
  


“Hey,” he smiled sheepishly. “How are—”

  
  


“The girl you told my mum about, is it me?” she cut him off bluntly. 

  
  


He chuckled. “Oh, your mother can’t keep her mouth shut. I told her in private,” he complained mockingly, wearing a light blush on his cheeks.

  
  


"So, am I?" She twisted her hands to have them do something. Was it possible she had drawn the wrong conclusions?

  
  


He nodded in a barely there movement as if he was afraid of her answer. 

  
  


Well,” she stepped into him, “then I’m happy she did.”

  
  


And then, Theo pulled her close and captured her lips, kissing her like she’d never been kissed before. His fingers brushed through her hair and she slung her arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into her. His lips were hot against hers and her body relaxed into him, a little moan escaping her. She felt how Theo smirked against her lips at her slip and gently pulled at the hairs at the nape of his neck. Theo groaned and his tongue slipped between her lips, making her breathless. His hands wandered downwards, exploring her body. She never wanted this moment to end, tangled in Theodore Nott’s strong arms. She felt safe and, after a very long time, finally whole. 

She’d never imagined she would end up with her parents’ memories restored and a wizard on her side after this trip. But here she was and she wouldn’t go anywhere. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The quarter I was referring to is Brighton, Melbourne. The beach houses are quite famous and a lovely spot, if you have the chance to visit.


End file.
